Perdu Pour Tellement Longtemps
by Tala Wolfe
Summary: After giving birth, Christine begins to wonder about the path not taken. Deciding to return to the Opera House, Christine finds her Angel to be truly the Angel of Death. Patrtially EC, Please R
1. Memory

Disclaimer: If I owned The Phantom of the Opera, I don't think I'd be wasting my time writing Phanphiction.

Rating: T for some space

Pairing: E/C

Note: This is an alternate look at Phantom of the Opera due to Phantom by Susan Kay, along with a bit from the musical/movie and original book. And, as the authoress, Erik isn't dead (obviously). I know all you phangirls won't mind. Christine isn't going to die anytime soon..probably.

Summary: After she gives birth to Charles, Christine looks back on the path might have taken, and decides to go back to Erik. Yet, she realizes to late, that things can never be the same, as she finds her angel truly to be an Angel of Death.

Chapter One: Memory

Raoul doesn't know. No human being knows, or ever shall. I keep both hidden in a place Raoul shall never find. I knew I shouldn't have kept it. It should have been left behind with _him_ when I fled after that single, wretched, yet wonderful day with him. I should not keep it, as it has become an addiction. I read it nearly daily, waking up long before even the maids do, reading the whole thing through, then going back to sleep. I could have gotten rid of it when Charles was born. Charles, dear Charles, was enough of a reminder. But I kept it. I kept all four memories of my Angel. Two in a tiny box which I hid. The other two roamed freely in my home.

And here I was, waking up before the sun. Holding my candle close to my chest, I set it down on the wooden table in the middle of my living room. Getting to my knees next to my lavish couch, I laid down on my stomach, having a clear view of under it. Searching in the dim candlelight, my heart began to race as it took me an extra second to find the porcelain container. As I was close to being reduced to frantic tears, I reached under, feeling in the darkness until I drummed my finger upon it. Sighing a bit too audibly in relief, I pulled it out with a bit of effort and took the lid of gently.

Smiling down on the papers and the golden band jammed messily in the container as usual, I first picked up the tiny ring. A sudden fleeting urge to kiss the gold overtook me, and I listened to my instincts. It still smelt like him. I knew this was wrong, worshiping a man who was dead ..especially since I was already Raoul's wife.

Carefully removing Raoul's heavy, over-the-top wedding ring, I replaced it with Erik's, viewing it sadly. Drumming my finger down the metal, I let out a light sob. I had killed this man. This man who had loved me so much. It was _my_ fault he was dead. I was to blame that this genius and monster was gone from this earth.

I remember clearly the promise I had made with this ring. To come back when Erik was dead and bury him in a place no one would find him with this. And I couldn't fulfill his one final wish. I remember the conversation Raoul and I had the day I saw the horrible ad labeling 'Erik is dead'.

"Raoul?" I had said, choked with silent tears.

"What's wrong Christine?"

All I had been able to do was shove him the papers and ask him in between sobs. "Let..me go...bury...him.." And his answer..after so many days of arguing, had been no.

Taking my mind off the ring for a moment, I glared down at papers which lay neatly stacked in the bottom of the box. Lifting them out tearfully, I read the first words carefully; "_This is not a diary,"_ I had read my childish writings so many times, I could recite each and every page by memory. But for the past year or so, it had been an addiction, just to feel the paper under my fingertips.

"Mama?"

Jumping at the voice, I let out somewhat of a squeak and looked behind me. Charles stood there, looking at me with wide eyes, Ayesha at his side, her eyes seeming to mock me in the darkness.

"Charles! What are you doing up at this time of night?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice at a stern whisper. Realizing I still held the papers in my hand, I tried to secretly hide them behind my back so little Charles couldn't see.

"I couldn't sleep. I wanted to ask you for some tea to help me. On my way to your bedroom I saw a light coming from in here and I heard you. What are you reading?" He explained, looking at me curiously and taking a step closer. Not a thing passed him. Just like his father. Even at such a young age, only 5 years old, I could see Erik slowly coming out in him.

"Nothing Charles, just..just something from when I was a child," I quickly lied, making sure he couldn't see that I wasn't wearing Raoul's ring.

Charles nodded, but I could see disbelief in his eyes. He said nothing, his hand wandering down to pet Ayesha. Walking gracefully over to me, that wretched cat never leaving his side, he plopped himself down beside me. "Can I see?" He asked innocently.

I would have said yes if this had been last week, but I knew now that he could very clearly read, as I had watched him looking at the Bible. I had asked him to tell me what it said, only to be shocked when he could read it to me, word by word. Shaking my head no, I stood suddenly, papers still in my hand. "Charles, I'm going to bed. You should as well."

He nodded absent-mindedly and stood there, fixated on something on the floor. I decided not to say anything, and walked to my bedroom quickly, not bothering to blow out my candle, and silently, I crawled back into my large bed with my husband, placing the papers under the bed carefully.

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As I awoke the next morning, I was groggy and irritable. My sleep had been anything but peaceful, dreams filled with memories of him, more precisely the ordeal with the spiders. Raoul stood at the end of the bed, adjusting his wig carefully. As he saw me awaken in our mirror, he immediately stopped, rushing to my side of the bed.

"Good morning, cherie," He said gently, kissing my lips. I tried my hardest not to back away. "You slept late," Raoul smiled at me, and returned to the mirror.

"So, is Charles making up stories again, Christine?" Raoul asked, slightly distracted.

My heart nearly dropped. I had forgotten to tell Charles not to tell Raoul. I couldn't say anything. I opened my mouth in an attempt, but I couldn't get the words to come out.

Raoul stopped, watching me carefully through the mirror. "Christine?" He asked.

"He..he must be," I said, trying to catch my breath.

Breakfast was set out by the time I was dressed. I headed downstairs, Ayesha rushing beside me, obviously knowing it was time for her to eat as well. As I entered the dining room, I looked at Charles, who sat at the stone table, his arms folded carefully in his lap as he watched me with his deep blue eyes. I couldn't resist a shudder as I felt them upon me.

"Good...good morning Charles," I said quietly, trying to regain my posture as I sat down across the table from him.

He smiled back at me and nodded gently, turning to Raoul, whom had sat down at the table beside me. "Papa?" He said gently, not waiting for a response as Ayesha jumped onto his lap. "Did you tell Mama that I told you that she was reading last night?"

"Yes, Charles, I did. But it is not proper to make up lies, Charles. Your mother has confirmed that she did not go into the living room last evening,"

Charles looked down at his plate in front of him and shut his eyes. "...But...Papa...I saw her! I wasn't dreaming...she was reading...and when she left, when I was going back to bed, I stepped on her ring!" He claimed passionately as I realized that I had forgotten my wedding ring on the floor and still had Erik's on. Quickly, I took my left hand off the table, placing it in my lap.

"I know that's not true, Charles," Raoul said, somewhat angrily. He looked over at me and I tried my hardest not to look back at him, as I knew that I could not hide a lie when he gazed into my eyes.

Charles let out a small sigh, and looked up at Raoul again. "Then..then...how come I have this?" He murmured, placing my wedding ring on the table. I stood up, suddenly feeling dizzy as Raoul glared up at me. Holding on the back of my chair for support, I felt my legs jolt into a sprint, making their way to my bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind me.

"Christine!" Raoul cried as I heard his feet pounding down the hallway. The doorknob began to frantically shudder as he tried to open it from the other side. I couldn't do anything but step back.

"Christine!" Raoul pleaded once more. "Please, open the door, I want to talk to you,"

I said nothing, shutting my eyes and placing my face in my palms, tears dripping out of my hands. I should have known this would happen...yet I chose to take the risk every time anyway.

I watched as the doorknob stopped rattling and I suddenly remembered that Raoul had a master key to every room in the house. As I listened to the lock click quietly, the door opened and I raised my tear stained face to Raoul who shut and locked the door behind him.

"Christine," He sighed gently, taking a step towards me. I tried to glance away from him, but he put his hand on my chin and lightly guided my face to look towards him. "Christine," He repeated, a slight sense of anger in his tone. "Why?" He demanded.

"Raoul," I pleaded softly. "I'm sorry...but you can't just expect me to forget him, can you? You know I love _you_,Raoul," I added, trying to make my lie sound somewhat realistic.

"Christine," He responded quietly, stroking my curls of light brown hair. A long period of silence passed and I began to shift my weight, slightly uncomfortable.

"Christine, it's time for you to give up," Raoul finally snapped, breaking the silence with a snarl. "I'm tired of hearing about your 'angel'. I'm tired of not hearing you sing because it reminds you of _him_. For God's sake, Christine, you married _me_!" As he finished, finally ending in a loud scream, I broke down again, tears staining my face.

"I'm sorry Raoul! Why don't you understand?"

Raoul suddenly looked furious, more so than I had ever seen him. "Christine, I understand," He muttered in a frustrated whisper. "I understand perfectly well, Christine. You don't seem to understand though that Erik is _dead,_"

His words quickly silenced my sobs. I looked at him through bloodshot eyes and wiped my tears away. Looking down at my golden band that rested on my finger, I took in off with a bit of difficulty. Grudgingly, I dropped it upon the wood floor. With the hushed clunk, my stomach sank.

I loved Erik. I knew this now. Not Raoul. Erik. I was going to find him. Even if he was dead, I couldn't stand to be with Raoul anymore. I had to escape. In my mind, a plan began to take form.


	2. An Escape and Return

Chapter Two: An Escape and Return

The rest of the day was fairly weary. Raoul left a few minutes after I threw down Erik's ring. He told me that he needed to figure out where my heart truly lie, saying that taking off a ring wasn't simply enough.

Charles was completely hysterical. When Raoul left, he had sat and watched the door, crying uncontrollably. I tried to console him, convince him it wasn't his fault, but he wouldn't take it. He sat there, staring blanking at the wooden frame of the doorway, hot tears running down his face, eyelids growing red and swollen.

"Charles!" I begged, on my knees next to him, my own tears falling onto his little shaking body. "Please stop crying!"

Suddenly, his tears stopped flowing. "Mama," He whispered, in a much deeper voice than I have ever heard in such a young child. "I..I'm sorry," He sniffled, wiping his tears off his cheeks.

I let out a relieved sigh, trying to control my own whimpers. "Don't be sorry, Charles...You didn't to anything wrong," I took in a deep breath, and looked to the door.

"...Who is Erik?"

Charles' question nearly stopped my heart. My eyes widened and I stared down at him is disbelief. For the first time, Charles had said the name of his real father. "Where did you hear that?" I demanded, a sudden urgency in my voice.

Charles looked slightly taken back. He looked up at me, and not breaking eye contact, he whispered calmly, "I heard you and Papa talking. Papa said that you don't understand that Erik is dead. Who is Erik?" He inquired again, eyes bursting with a sudden hunger for knowledge.

"Erik...is..." I whispered, trying to think of what he _was _to me. I couldn't say he was Charles' father. I couldn't say he was my angel. "My old friend.." I finally muttered, breaking eye contact with Charles. He knew when I was lying. Just like his father.

"Oh," Charles said softly, looking a bit disappointed. "I'm sorry he passed away,"

I couldn't take this anymore. The lies were suffocating me. All Charles has to say about his own father being dead was "I'm sorry he passed away,"

"Charles, go into your room and put in your suitcase anything you want to take with you," I sudden blurted out, my hands shaking as I stood up.

He looked very confused, but stood up and ran down the hallway at a fairly impressive speed for such a young child.

I took a deep breath and looked down at the hem of my dress. My mind was being pounded with questions, and I didn't know the answer. Morals were the issues here. But my fading memory of his touch caused me to take in a deep breath, and make up my mind. I was leaving.

Rushing to my bedroom, I pulled out from the huge closet a large wooden suitcase, empty. Quickly packing all the clothes I would need for about two weeks and other things I couldn't go without. Suddenly, I found a fairly significant-sized pile of francs lying on the ground, under all of my clothes. A pile I never knew about. _Bastard, _I thought angrily, remembering his promise to give me any money I should ever need. Shoving it all in my bag, I took a deep breath, making sure I had everything I needed. Throwing Raoul's ring to the ground in a sudden flair of fury, I looked down to where Erik's still lay. Hurriedly, I placed in on my thin finger, grabbing the papers I left under the bed from last night and shoving them into the case.

Using all my strength, I heaved the suitcase up and waddled out of the bedroom to the front door, setting it down with an outburst of breath. Charles walked in slowly after, and he seemed to be somewhat dazed as he set his suitcase down beside me.

"Can I take Ayesha?" He asked solemnly. "She must be lonely when we travel,"

I pondered it for a minute, 'no' on the tip of my tongue, but the look in his eye told me that I couldn't refuse him this. "Of course," I sighed. "Go get her,"

He began to cry out for her, his voice echoing off the stone walls. It was a piteous, low, obsessive cry, and suddenly, I could almost hear Erik crying along with him.

A young maid, with long, blond hair and pale skin, Angela entered abruptly, a slight frown on her face. "Charles," She said calmly, looking down at him. "Please stop yelling...its distra-" She was cut short when she looked over at me, her mouth still hanging agape. "Madame?" Angela asked quietly. "Are..are you leaving? Without your-"

"Yes, Angela," I cut her off, tapping my foot impatiently as Ayesha came running at Charles, leaping next to him. "Charles and I are leaving...Don't tell my husband that you know.." I pleaded, speaking quiet enough so that Charles couldn't hear.

Angela shook her head wildly, and ran off, eyes wide. Charles, still having a confused expression spread across his face, looked at me gently. "Let's go,"

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Catching a hansom driver and giving him some of my limited funds, Charles and I hopped in the back seat, Ayesha sitting comfortably on his lap, all laying in an uncomfortable silence.

"We're not coming back, are we, Mama?" Charles whispered, staring at me.

I couldn't respond.

Catching a ferry, it was nearly noon. We sat and waited, seemingly waiting many months till we docked in France in the mid afternoon. We then grabbed another hansom ride, and remained silent.

A full hour and finally, we had reached our destination. The outskirts of Paris. I had thought ahead, realizing it would be fairly easy for Raoul to track us if we took a hansom straight to the Opera House. We would have to walk the rest of the way, which would take Charles and I a fairly long time.

So we walked. It seemed like years. Charles, who had decided to carry Ayesha and drag his bag behind him, kept getting tired and having me carry his suitcase, doubling my load. He seemed genuinely sorry whenever he looked at me, struggling to carry both bags, but said nothing, as we kept in our stillness.

Then, before I could even realize what was happening, Charles had stopped walking, looking up in amazement. Before I could question what he was staring at, I looked up. There it was. My angel's home. My heaven and hell combined. The building that had tortured my mind for so many months stood before me, threatening me with the shadows running off it in the setting sun. Remembering solemnly that it was Sunday and no performance would be scheduled for tonight, I suddenly felt worried that lack of people would set the stage for something alarming to occur.

"Wonderful architecture.." Charles said in a voice that no longer sounded like his own. "Amazing detail..." His voice wondered off, and he continued to stare up at the Paris Opera House. "What is this place?" He asked, suddenly sounded normal again.

"Its...its...an opera house," I murmured, finding it hard to catch my breath.

I wondered silently if Erik would still look like himself. He had been a living skeleton before I had left. But, what do living skeletons look like when they die? Would he be the same? Would his face still send shivers up terror up my spine? Would I want to turn back? Overwhelmed by my own questioning, my breath quivered as I took a step closer to the Opera House, leaving Charles behind in my trance.

I heard a ring of a bell, and I knew Charles had dropped Ayesha. Forced back into my senses, I stared back at him. I barely saw his face before he darted past me, at a speed I would have never matched with him, Ayesha running behind. I watched him curiously, but when I saw him grasp for the handle of the door, trying to pull it open, I felt a surge of fear run through my veins and I dashed for him, running the best I could in my dress.

I wrapped my arms around his tiny body, and I felt him struggle to escape, pressing down on my arms and squirming all over.

"Mama!" He cried, letting go of his attempts. "Why cant I just go inside! I want to go inside!" He yelped, suddenly becoming what reminded me of a wild animal.

I took a breath and shut my eyes. He wanted to go inside. I needed to. Both of us were chosen by God himself to enter this building...to bury him, and bury all my memories, so I could continue with my natural life. Getting to my feet cautiously, I began to open the door, with extreme exaggeration, caught helplessly in the moment. I would need to stay quiet, I couldn't make a scene that I was back to my true home.

Charles watched me with a strange fascination, eyes nearly glazed over, he pressed his hand on the hem of my dress gently. I felt the urge to glare down upon him, but I knew it would only stall me from my unavoidable fate longer.

Before I knew it, the only barrier between me and the inside of the Pairs Opera House was gone. Not allowing me time to catch my breath from the beauty of the interior, and the feeling of being home, Charles rushed ahead of me, walking slowly.

"Charles, wait for me," I whispered, knowing that he could not hear me, staggering after him, my legs suddenly refusing to work correctly. My hand grasped wildly around and I questioned silently whether I would fall.

Somehow, I retained balance, and my legs began to cooperate again. I took a deep breath, and standing at full posture, I realized that Charles was no where in my sight. "Charles?" I said, trying to make my voice sound louder than it actually was. "Charles?"

Before I could stop myself, I was nearly shouting his name, walking back and forth, heart seeming to put a rhythm to my aching cries. My mind was not working correctly, and I had forgotten my promise to myself to be silent and not attract attention to myself. Reaching close to hysterics, my shouts becoming louder, I rounded another corner, and was met face to face with someone whom I doubt I could have ever forgotten.

A/N: I know, I haven't changed much when it comes to cliffhangers. But anyway, I promise things will start to speed up. Thanks to all the reviewers, and I hope to get the next chapter up by Friday.

Black Rose37: Of course. Enjoy!

hisinspiration: Christine taking the ring off was meant to be a sign to Raoul that Christine's heart belongs to him (as you can tell, it was done grudgingly and deceivingly)

mrsphantom1029: Yes, that's what I thought. So of course, she did. Thanks for the review!


	3. Confusion

A/N: Ok, I know, I know. I didn't keep my promise. But you guys, if you're reading, you should be reviewing, as when I don't get reviews, that makes me sad! Anyway, enjoy this next chapter and **review.**

Kathy .L: Thanks! Just keep reading!

MasqueradingthroughLife: Thanks for the _awesome_ review. Mayyyybe its Erik...just keep reading and you'll find out.

Chapter Three: Confusion

"Christine Daae'...or should I maybe say Christine de Chagny?" Meg Giry's smirk hadn't changed one bit with time, and I found myself remembering clearly her bullying from my days as a mere chorus girl. "You're being quite loud."

Normally, when I was sixteen, I would have been furious at this remark, and would have argued that my screaming couldn't be compared to her normal talking, but I knew today that she wasn't exaggerating when she said this. My heart pounded as I looked around frantically, ignoring my childhood best friend in a mad search for my son.

"Christine?" Meg asked quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder and looking to my eyes. "Are you alright? You're pale..and don't seem like your feeling too well...Who are you looking for? Charles? More importantly, why did you come back? It's been so long since..since.." She whispered, looking behind her as if someone was watching the two of us. Suddenly, realization seemed to hit her and her smile grew a bit wider. "You're here because of the Opera Gh-"

"No!" I interrupted, shocked at the remark. "He's...he's...dead..correct? Why would I come here because of a dead man?.."

"Christine, Christine," Meg repeated gently, letting go of my shoulder. "We all know _something_ happened...down..there," Her eyes gleamed as if she was utterly delighted to get to talk about something forbidden, just like she had when we were both younger. "He hasn't been seen in years...did you kill hi-?"

"_No!_" I said loudly, the very thought of murdering Erik obscene to me. "Meg, please..I need your help...I have to find him..he-"

"Find _who?_" Meg laughed delightedly, twisting my words in her warped mind as well as she could. "I do believe you're talking about-"

"Meg!" I interrupted. "Stop this madness! My son, he ran off! I don't know where he is! He's only five years old, have you seen a young child run by?"

"No," Meg mused, eyes seeming to glaze over. "No young children have been by this way...I haven't heard any young boys for a while either...Are you sure you're alright?" She said gently, her little eyes suddenly seeming very caring.

"I'm..I'm fine, I just need to find Charles," I whispered, shaking my head back and forth. I began to walk around Meg, when she held out a frail arm to stop me.

"No, Christine, you're not leaving until you explain some things to me," Meg snarled, face suddenly twisted in harshness. "First of all, why did you come back, if not to see the Opera Ghost?"

"Meg, do we really have to discuss-?"

"I'm not finished!"Meg snapped, stomping her foot down upon the ground as if that would get her opinion to me better. "Second, why isn't Raoul with you? Are you not his wife?"

I was silent. I had to think of a decent lie before she began to suspect anything, or find a way out of this situation and not be chased by Meg my entire time here.

"Christine!" Meg yelped. "Answer me! I know your going to _him_. I've cornered you, haven't I? Doesn't that scare you? Well, Christine, when you go down to him..when you leave everything behind again in your selfish little world, I'm going to follow you. Do you hear me Christine? I will follow you all the-"

I couldn't stop myself. Seemingly out of nowhere, my hand flung up to her cheek, sending a harsh slapping noise as her head flew to the side. "Be quiet, Meg! It's really none of your business. Now get out my way! My son is missing and you are only blocking my path to him!"

Meg said nothing, still wildly rubbing her cheek as if that was the only way to rid herself of the pain. Deciding to hurry away from her before she realized what I had done, I was on my way again, searching madly for Charles, not raising my voice as loud as before.

After an hour, I had searched everywhere available to the public in the Opera House for Charles at least twice. My world was becoming dizzy and I wondered in my delusional state of mind if I would ever see my son again.

Climbing down into the orchestra pit, I began to search there as well, and finally, not caring if I was caught, searched the empty backstage. Charles was no where in sight. Collapsing to my knees and starting to sob as I reached the dressing rooms, I tried my hardest to stifle my cries, as not to be heard by anyone.

Charles was gone. In my mind I knew it was true. The perfect son. The child I had dreamed of having my entire life. And I had lost him. My tears fell down upon my hands as I sniffled loudly, trying my hardest to remain in control of my emotions. I knew Charles wouldn't hide from me like this. Something must have happened to him...

As I looked up, my own heart nearly failed me. In front of me was a large door I had failed to notice. The one I recognized as my old dressing room. Taking a deep breath, I stood, using the door as support. Once standing, I felt different. Like I wasn't in control of my body anymore. My soul was looking out of a stranger's eyes. The hand that had once belonged to me moved upward against my own will, grasping the unlocked doorhandle, and pushing forward until the door was open. I tried to stop myself, convince my body not to enter the room, but I was no longer in control. I had already shut the door behind me..locked it..

"_Christine."_

The uttering of my name brought me back to reality with a screeching halt. I was standing alone in my old dressing room, in the dark. The full size mirror stood in front of me, seemingly glowing. My breath began to quicken as I looked around. Engulfed in darkness, I began to try and feel my way around, terror gripping me. I felt dizzy, the earth below my feet was spinning.

"_Christine._"

This time my name was uttered, I realized whose voice it was. The voice of a man who should have been dead many years ago. My heart pounded in my rib cage and suddenly, I let out a shrill scream. Panic overtook my senses and I was a wild animal, threatening to hurt myself in this dark room My mind was no longer functional, making me unable to reason with myself my own sanity. Running around like a madman, I began to run into walls, bruising and scraping my fragile body. Things began to fall over, and shatter as they hit the hard ground.

The voice echoed over and over in my head, and each time I heard it, it seemed louder, closer, putting me in a more frantic alarm until I knew it was touching me, caressing my cheeks, violating my own body. I shut my eyes, grasping my own shoulders, and falling to the ground, feeling pieces of broken glass cut into the side of my face. I would have normally gasped in pain, but I just allowed myself to bleed, curling into a tiny ball as I lay gasping for breath and crying as harder then I had ever imagined possible.

I laid there for a long time. Time seemed to go slower than ever before, and my breathing kept going faster, then slower, faster, then slower. The still sane part of my body told me to stay down here, where I was safe from harming myself, but the other part was screaming to get up. He was alive. I had heard his voice. Just as I had heard any person. I am not mad. I do not hear things. I heard real voice. Erik was alive. He was watching me. Watching every shuddering breath I took.

Erik was watching me. It sounded crazy every time I told it to myself. Yet, I couldn't get it out of my head. I couldn't tell myself he wasn't. The only reason he wouldn't be watching me now is if he was dead. And that truth was harder to accept. Yes..Erik was watching me.

Charles suddenly came flying back into my mind. My confusion of where Charles was became even more prominent now that my own mind was not working in a sane way. I tried whispering his name in my dark solitude. But he didn't come. No one came to save me. I was on my own. Charles wasn't here to save me. He didn't need me as much as I had wanted to believe. I needed him for this. If I was to survive in this trap from hell, I needed my son.

I gasped out his name once more, and when I heard no one, no footsteps coming for me, I sat up, feeling the dry blood across my cheek. Glass still stood buried under my skin, but I made no attempt to take it out. I had more important things on my mind.

I stood up and cautiously felt my way around the room, staying away from the mirror, which still seemed to be glowing, the best I could. Finally, feeling the wood of the door, I unlocked it from the inside and carefully opened it up.

It must have been very late, for none of the new electric lights were on. I glanced helplessly around, before sighing gently. I wasn't going to make any progress finding Charles in the dead of night. He has probably found a nice spot to lay down and sleep, and I knew I should do the same. Walking slowly back into the dressing room, I shut and locked the door behind me. I cleared the floor of the jagged glass with the heel of my shoe, piling it in the corner. Once I was sure I would not be on any glass, I laid down, shivering. Shutting my eyes, I tried my hardest to slip into unconsciousness. Sleeping had never in my life been so hard.


End file.
